The Sunday Transcendence
by April in Paris
Summary: They had been married four months when Sheldon said it. At the time, Amy was too spent with pleasure and too full of love to ask him to explain it further. Now, even months later, she finds her mind occasionally turning back to that comment. It's veracity was never in question. But she still finds herself wondering when, exactly, Sheldon thought coitus had changed. NOTE THE RATING!


_**AN: Much like Amy, I cannot explain where this came from. So much for being a classy Shamy writer (although I did try to keep it as classy as possible). I almost didn't post it, but life is too short. Enjoy!**_

* * *

**The Sunday Transcendence**

They had been married four months when Sheldon said it. At the time, Amy was too spent with pleasure and too full of love to ask him to explain it further. Now, even months later, she finds her mind occasionally turning back to that comment. It's veracity was never in question. But she still finds herself wondering when, exactly, Sheldon thought coitus had changed.

Was it the first time? The hopeless romantic in her wants the answer to be yes, but she thinks probably not. The second? This is more likely, but she still thinks perhaps it is not so. The first time they used the 20-sided die and ended up laughing through most of it, drunk on the happiness of being legally wed? A heady mix of joyous emotions for sure, but probably not. One of the two anomalies prior to that fourth month? No, those are unlikely; but they cannot be ruled out completely. Or did he mean that the sum of all their coital connections were greater than the parts? That is a distinct possibility. However, there were two things that happened that fateful June that makes her think the answer lay there. But she cannot be sure. She chooses never to ask him to explain himself. Because she enjoys turning it over in her mind, she enjoys all the Schrodinger's possibilities, that they can all be true at the same time.

After four months, they had found their rhythm in more ways than one. There are the rhythms of the science of coitus: speed, angles, positions, timing. There are the rhythms of the heart: what the other one likes, what the other one dislikes, how to ask for it, how to say no. A pattern has developed, sweet and orderly, methodical but not boring. It was not discussed except in the moment, because it did not need to be verbalized to be understood. Sheldon is almost always the perfect gentleman, he almost always makes sure she is happy before he takes for himself. And, quite often, he tries to pleasure her again during.

In the first three months of marriage, there were only those two anomalies that broke the pattern.

The second - for even now, Amy always thinks of the second one first, as it is easier to explain - was the night of Leonard and Penny's wedding. Sheldon looked so devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo that she removed every inch of it herself, refusing to allow him to help. All she asked him to do was talk to her, to explain the physics of speedboats to her (it was the first thing that popped in her head when she told him he looked like James Bond), while she performed some sort of striptease-by-proxy. Sheldon was confused but amused, so he did. Then he was naked and she wanted him so badly, he could do no wrong, and, for the first time, his touch sends her spiraling twice in row and then once again later. Perhaps that was more a blip than a true anomaly.

The first cannot be explained. Amy had a dream, some sort of crazy sex dream, in which Sheldon had pleasured her one, two, three times before she cried out his name. Then he did it four, five, six times until she cried out again. Not finished, he did it seven, eight, nine times until she awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest and body still throbbing. She reached over to her sleeping husband, and awoke him with kisses and strokes until he came into her. This is the only time, since the first time, Sheldon did not pleasure her first. She didn't mind, she was still on a high from her dream, and having him was pleasure enough. Later, though, she regretted it. He never spoke, and she wondered if he remembered it, if he thought it was his own dream. Or, worse, did he feel pressured to do it? He is too tall and strong for her to have really forced him, of course, but there is a nagging feeling that perhaps she crossed some sort of unwritten line.

Two new things happened in June before he said it. Coincidentally both on a Sunday. She thinks coitus changed somewhere around then.

* * *

The first Sunday, she returned home from brunch with girls and Sheldon was working on the computer. She still does not know if it was that black Superman shirt - the one that he rarely wore because it is ever so slightly tight across the shoulders, but that she loved for that exact reason - or if it was the smile he gave her when she entered the apartment. Or something else all together.

"How was brunch?" he asked.

"Fun." She walked to stand behind him, and wrapped her arms about him. She leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Hello, Sheldon." Then she kissed the top of his ear.

"Uh, hello, Amy."

She took his earlobe in her mouth until she felt him shift slightly in his chair. It was a good sign. She pulled away. "I want you."

"Now?"

She stopped kissing the back of his neck just long enough to reply. "Right now."

"But it's 12:37 in the afternoon."

"So?" More kisses.

"But I'm working. On, you know, science." He shifted again.

Amy smiled as she reached the opposite earlobe. Sheldon was losing his train of thought. Bingo. "Science?" She took gave a flick with her tongue. "Do you know the layers of the retina, Dr. Cooper?" A little suck. "Inner limiting membrane." A swirl. "Nerve fiber layer." A deeper suck. "Gaglion cell layer."

Suddenly he spun his chair around, forcing her take a step back. "Okay, right now."

He started to get up and she pushed him down. "Right here."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. This chair isn't very stable and -" She hadn't been listening to him and instead tried to straddle his lap. As though proving Sheldon's point, the chair started to careen unpredictably to one side.

"Okay, you're right." She got up, and he followed. She took his hand and pulled him toward the sofa, at the exact moment he tried to lead her toward the hallway. "The couch, Sheldon."

"Do you have any idea how much it costs to have those cushions cleaned?" But he followed her.

She dropped his hand to take the blanket of the back of the sofa and lay in on the seats. "There."

"Well, okay. You locked the door?" She nodded. Sheldon moved to sit down, but she stopped him again by pulling him upright. He asked, "Why are you pushing and pulling me around so much?"

"Because." She reached down and swiftly undid his pants before pulling them down with his underwear. She was pleased to see his body was not making any of the excuses his mind was.

"Uh, Amy, isn't this out of sequence?"

"Hush." She pushed him down on the couch. He landed with a flop. Thankful she didn't wear tights, she quickly lifted her skirt and divested herself of her panties.

"What's happening here?" he asked as she straddled his lap.

"What does it feel like?" She reached for him with her hand, and he let out a ragged breath at the contact. He closed his eyes.

"Amy . . ." he spoke in spurts as she massaged him, up and down, "this isn't . . . the order . . .we do . . . this."

"It is today." She rose up, ready to take him, bracing her other hand on his shoulder.

"But -"

She stopped, remembering the first anomaly. "Sheldon, do you want to say no? Tell me now. Are you saying no?"

He opened his eyes to look at her. "I already said yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yes."

He barely got the words out of his mouth before she took him into her. This, she never tired of: the feeling inside her, the sound of Sheldon's breath when it happened. Normally, the times she has been on top, she worked to lift and lower herself, Sheldon helping her from below.

That afternoon, she tried something new. She started slowly, gently rotating clockwise. "How is that?"

"Good. Really good." He let his head fall back and he shut his eyes again.

She speed up gradually until her hips ached. Then she reversed it.

"Ohhhh boy. Whoaaa." She took that as a good sign. Sheldon was not normally vocal in that way. His breath came faster, and when her hips and thighs started screaming from the unusual motion, she changed completely.

She leaned forward until her forehead was on his shoulder and she started to grind back and forth. _Oh, hooot, that should do it. _He lowered his face into her hair.

"Good Lord, woman!" It was the first time Sheldon ever brought something he didn't believe in to their coitus. She felt his hand trying to squeeze between their bodies.

"No, leave it," she told him. She was feeling it on her own.

"But . . . I can't . . . you have to . . . slow down . . . if you want . . . I can't do this much longer . . . for you."

She grabbed his hand then, entangling her fingers with his.

"But Amy -"

She silenced him with a forceful kiss, so strong their teeth almost clashed together. Technically, it was probably a horrible kiss, they were both so busy concentrating on other things, but somehow it was perfect. Then he moaned into her mouth, sending shudders through her skull. His hand tightened around hers. It was exactly what she needed. She ground deeper, just a few more times, and then it happened. She saw starbursts as the brief wave washed over her.

Amy fell back into his chest, her favorite tee shirt against her cheek. Sweat was trickling down her back. It had been a lot of work. Sheldon wrapped his arms around her. "Amy?"

"Hmmm?"

"What was that?"

"I think that is what is commonly referred to as a quickie."

"Why?"

"I didn't time it, but I would guess it was probably 60 or even 75% shorter than -"

"Yes, it was. But why a quickie?"

She sat back to look at him. "I don't know. Honestly. Did you enjoy it?"

"I think the evidence speaks for itself." He paused. "But I didn't think you liked that. Without any foreplay."

She shrugged. "Not normally."

"Did you . . . did you have an orgasm? I'm not sure."

"Yes, at the end. A little one." This was a new conversation for them. Technical details were usually whispered during, not examined after.

"Without me?"

She heard it, the little note of hurt in his voice. "Not without you. Clearly." She swiveled her hips once more, to keep him inside of her. "I guess I just wanted to know if I could do it that way. But it wasn't the same, if that's what you're worried about. It's better when you do it." She gave him a little smile to reassure him.

He gave a weak smile back. "Fascinating."

"What?"

"Today, it felt different before I reached orgasm but then the orgasm felt the same as it always does. But yours feel different."

"Yes. I suppose it's one of the advantages of being a female. There are multiple orgasms, of course. You know that. But sometimes they are stronger or longer than other times. Orally stimulated orgasms are supposed to be different. And if the G-spot is manipulated it's apparently on a new level."

Sheldon shifted slightly under her, and she knew that meant he couldn't hold it much longer. "Amy, do you . . . do you want to be orally stimulated?"

Amy's heart pounded. That she did not expect. She thought it was something Sheldon would never, could never bring himself to do. She said casually, more casually than she felt, "I wouldn't mind trying it."

He swallowed and gave a little nod. "I'll think about it."

She knew it was all he would do, but it was enough. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Shall we take a shower?"

"Yes. And then we'll wash this blanket."

* * *

Two Sundays later, she was washing her hair when Sheldon stepped into the shower with her.

"Good morning, Sheldon."

"Good morning."

They did not often shower together - someone is always left out in the cold - but they had done it enough they had rhythm to that, too. They chatted about the empty day ahead, making meaningless plans to fill the hours. And then they stepped of the shower and Sheldon surprised her by starting to dry her with his own towel. Intrigued, she returned the favor. She turned for the clean clothes she had brought in with her, when Sheldon took her hand.

"Let's go back to bed," he said. He grabbed one of the wet washcloths. Even more intrigued, she followed him, enjoying the sight of his slim naked backside.

Morning coitus had happened, of course. But never after the shower. Amy crawled onto the bed next to him. "What's the special occasion, Dr. Cooper?"

"Amy, I have -" She turned to him sharply when he didn't call her Dr. Fowler. "- thought about it. Oral stimulation. If I'm going to do it, it has to be like this. After a shower."

She involuntarily brought her hand to her mouth. She had actually forgotten about it because, well, Sheldon Cooper would never do that.

He looked at her. She looked at him. Finally, he spoke, "How do you propose I start?"

That made her smile. "Let's just start with kissing, like usual. And then, if you're ready, you can work your way down. If you're not ready, that's okay, too."

He nodded and leaned toward her. After a few kisses, the rhythm took over. They reached a point where Sheldon was doing salacious things to her breasts, and his hand made its way to her favorite location. _Ah, not today. That's okay._ And it really, truly was okay. Because it was Sheldon.

But then, his kisses start moving down her stomach. She refused to think it would happen until his kisses reached her dark curls. He stopped and whispered, "You'll tell me if I do anything to hurt you?"

"Yes." She took a gulp of air.

He didn't kiss her there right way. Instead, he slipped his fingers inside of her. This was not new, per se, but she felt a new determination. One stroke up the front of her and back down. _Hoooot, that's good._ And then again, slower and deeper, until he hit something. Her back arched off the bed.

"Are you okay?"

"More than okay. Dr. Cooper, I think you've been studying."

"Maybe." The word is muffled as he kissed her in her most secret of spots. The combination of the two made her jerk again. _Dear Lord, indeed._

There were literally no words for what she felt next. Somewhere, deep in her cerebellum, she knew there was licking and twirling and palpitations inside of her, but her upper brain had shut down. She wanted to look down, but she couldn't seem to stop her eyes from squeezing. This wasn't a whole new level, this was a whole new world. She was not surprised how fast it seemed to happened. She rode wave after wave (three? five? five thousand?), she wasn't sure where one stopped and the next started. Then she felt something firmer, maybe his thumb, replace his lips and that pressure was the final blow. She thought her optic nerves exploded, and she heard herself yell, actually scream, out his name.

Sheldon pulled away from her, leaving just a little kiss at the very bottom of her stomach. Her eyelids fluttered open to see him washing his face with the washcloth. She wanted to smile at this, but she didn't think she had the strength. He laid down next to her, and put his hand on her stomach.

"Did I do it correctly?" he whispered.

She wanted to tell him if he did it incorrectly, she was certain she would not survive him doing it correctly. But it took all of her effort just to nod.

"Amy, I don't want to leave you, but, and I did not expect this, I find I am desperate for release. You relax here, I'll go to the shower." He removed his hand and started to get up.

"No." It sounded hoarse, even to her own ears. "Stay. Come to me."

His blue eyes peered down at her. "Are you sure? You look . . . exhausted, at least."

She nodded again. He positioned himself over her, and when the tip of him touched her sensitive pearl, trying to find its way in, she hissed sharply at the sensation. He stopped. "I'm going to the shower. This is hurting you."

"No, please." This time, she said it sharply. She found the words. "I just think my neurons are overloaded. It will be fine. Gently. And don't . . . don't touch me there again."

He nodded and ever so gently joined her. The first two thrusts were agonizingly slow. "It's okay. You can go faster." But he didn't. He was killing her softly. She was surprised, given his almost languid pace, how quickly he released. He did not stay, but instead almost immediately pulled slowly out of her. He was still trying to be careful.

He curled up next to her and she rolled over to meet his eyes. "I love you, Sheldon."

"I love you, too." He reached out to touch her face. "And I love making love with you."

She raised her eyebrows. "What did you say?"

"I love making love with you."

Amy's heart fluttered. "Not coitus?"

"Well, technically, yes. But I think we've transcended the technicalities, don't you?"

She smiled and nodded, and Sheldon reached for the blankets. She barely felt them over her as she drifted off to sleep.


End file.
